It was my second year of school, and I had quite recently moved out of the quarters into a little off-grounds condo. The spot was little and had flimsy dividers, however it was shabby and all around kept up. The main drawback was my neighbors, who gave me an abnormal vibe. I would hear them contending at painfully inconvenient times of the night, communicating in French (despite the fact that when I addresses them they both had American intonations).
One night, I was attempting to nod off, when I heard them talking (in French). Since my room imparted a divider to their lavatory, I was interested concerning why they were talking in their washroom, yet I figured what the heck, to each their own. I soon acknowledged, however, that they were doing considerably more in their restroom than visiting, as the hints of discussion transformed into the hints of uproarious....
